


when christmas comes to town

by mossclouds



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Fate & Destiny, Garden Centre AU, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossclouds/pseuds/mossclouds
Summary: Arthur’s lips quirk up. “Well, I’ve got nothing else on today.”Merlin jumps up. “To the lake then, Sugarplum!”“I hate you.”***************It's Christmas at the garden centre, and Merlin keeps being made to work with this spoiled prat.a tale of tacky christmas jumpers, round tearoom tables, christmas trees, and families being the people you choose for yourself.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	1. in the bleak midwinter

**Author's Note:**

> the tiles from that polar express song! 
> 
> Look, this isn't going to be anything lifechanging. You won't remember this forever as the best, most original thing you've ever read. But you might get some festive cheer out of it, and I hope it can make you smile. 
> 
> A warning: there is a very tiny bit of casual, in character, sexist, classist, homophobic language. It's not too bad, and I feel like it does help the characters come to life as real, flawed people. However, if that sort of thing makes you feel gross, I don't blame you at all, give this one a miss! Still, I promise you're about to read a lighthearted, mostly happy Christmas story!!
> 
> Also, I did work in a garden centre for a bit, but it was a much smaller one than this so I don't know everything! This is the sort of garden centre you get in the UK, idk about other countries, that serves more as a department store for more grounded people, rather than actually just plants. I largely based it on the one nearest to my house, dinosaurs and all.
> 
> enjoy and i love u !! merry christmas! <33

Merlin _hates_ waking up in the winter. The sky is still as dark as it was at midnight, the heating in the flat he shares with his mate Will hasn’t rattled on yet, and his alarm clock is annoyingly cheerful, singing Micheal Buble’s _Santa Baby_ at a volume that should never be reached at six in the morning. His friend Gwaine changed it to that last night, when he came over sort of for a pizza but mostly to gossip about the new December work schedule. Merlin had pretended not to notice, just humour him. He is regretting that now.

He is shovelling down a bowl of coco pops at the same time as pulling on black jeans and his green shirt that is part of his uniform. It wouldn’t do to be late on the first day of the month, not when he has to work with Arthur Pendragon, who already thinks he’s a waste of space. Not that he’s overly bothered by what Arthur thinks of him. He feels the same way.

Merlin has been working at Pine Lane Garden Centre since he was fifteen, when his Mam lost one of her jobs and he decided to do anything he could to help. And he likes it there! At first, when he worked part time they mostly just had him watering plants outside, or stacking the bookshelves, maybe cleaning the tables. Nowadays, he more often can be found in the tearoom making hot drinks and serving cake. Sure, the garden centre isn’t where he wants to work for the rest of his life, but he is only twenty, and most of his friends work there too, so for now, he knows he’s lucky. But then, eight months ago, Arthur waltzed in, neatly ironed shirt and admittedly gorgeous face, and immediately started acting as though he was better than the rest of them, with his stupid posh voice and leather shoes. He was the subject of ridicule for weeks. But then, to make things worse, everyone had started to like him. Whenever Merlin tried to call him an entitled prat, he started to be met by sympathetic smiles and lines like ‘Aw, just give him a chance’, or ‘honestly Merlin, he’s not as bad as he was.’ And Merlin isn’t a judgemental person, really, but he just can’t see it. So he continues to glare at Arthur when Gwen’s back is turned and Arthur keeps frowning at him and they are fine this way.

Still, being late for a shift in the tearoom with him would probably serve as proof to Arthur that he really is just a lazy chav, so he probably does need to get going. After a quick pause to grab his first advent chocolate and pop it in his mouth, Merlin pulls his scarf off the hanger by the door and starts on his walk to the Pine. 

The first of December is always a busy day, everyone rushing over to buy nice new decorations or take a look at the displays that they set up. Personally, he is particularly proud of the model christmas village that he helped to work on, but he likes Freya’s decision to put the animatronic dinosaur in tinsel and an elf hat quite a lot too. Already, even, from the end of the road, as Merlin walks up, he can see a queue starting to form to meet Father Christmas in the grotto that they built at the end of the old mini railway. Merlin hasn’t met the guy that would be in the costume this year, but they’re usually nice enough. 

He pushes into the shop, around the group standing in front of the doorway, mumbling apologies, and takes a deep breath. It’s going to be a hell of a day.

“Merlin! Quick, Annie wants us in Christmas jumpers!” Gwen shouts, rushing over to him and quite literally pushing singing knitwear over his head. She grimaces. “Uh. I think it’ll stop doing that in a minute. I might have pressed the button.” Merlin laughs and lets himself be pushed over towards the tearoom. 

“Wait, Gwen, where are you today?” He calls, over the noise of _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ coming out of his stomach.

“Flowers! Outside! It’s just you and Arthur ‘til lunchtime, I’m afraid. El’s off!” She yells as she goes to open up.

Merlin sighs. True to Gwen’s word, Arthur is behind the counter, leaning against the fridge, his face arranged in an expression of boredom. He looks ridiculous. The penguin on his jumper is holding bells that make a noise every time he even slightly sways. He looks ridiculous and not even a little bit adorable. Merlin scoffs as he approaches, eyes on the penguin.

“You can talk, Mr singing reindeer,” Arthur rolls his eyes. Which, yeah, is fair enough. 

“It’ll stop in a minute,” Merlin mutters. “Gwen said.”

Arthur snorts. “She’s having you on. Press the button again.” 

Merlin does, and the song immediately stops. Merlin turns away in annoyance. It would be nice if Arthur could be wrong, for once in his life. He busies himself switching on the Christmas playlist and getting the jam out of the fridge for the scones. Arthur tutts, but he is already putting on his customer service smile as the first families trickle in to order. Merlin beams at the regulars and pours tea. It’s a pity Merlin and Arthur make such a good team, really.

*************************

There isn’t much chance to talk until the lunch break, when Helen and Tristan come over to take their place. Arthur climbs over the counter, Merlin ducks under it, and they head off in opposite directions. Arthur strolls over to a table in the corner of the room and pulls out a salad. Merlin snickers to himself about how boring that is, and goes to find Gwen. Unfortunately, though, he finds her surrounded by a crowd as she makes bouquets with red lilies, holly, and mistletoe. Merlin smiles to himself seeing Gwen in her element, and turns the corner to the Christmas tree field, where Gwaine and Lancelot are. But a quick glance tells him they’re busy too. Lance is holding the hands of two small boys who are dragging him over to choose a tree, and Gwaine has hold of an axe. Merlin raises his eyebrows and decides that is a terrifying prospect, so he leaves the field again, and heads back into the warm inside. He is busy trying to picture the schedule in his mind, when, distracted, he walks directly into Annie. Eyes widening at his supervisor, he begins to apologise, but is cut off.

“Oh, no, don’t you worry. My fault, I was distracted,” She tells him, and starts to walk away. Merlin shakes his head minutely, when Annie turns back around.

“Actually, dear, could I ask a favour? I know it’s your break, but if you wouldn’t mind finding that Arthur and taking him out with you to feed the reindeer?” 

Merlin blinks. “We have reindeer?” 

“Oh, yes! Did nobody mention? Yes, the father christmas this year apparently pulled some strings, got some real reindeer for outside the grotto! They’re in a pen by the train tracks. You’ve got to meet them!” 

Merlin drops his jaw, laughing. “Alright then,” he promises. “What do we need to do?”

*****************

Arthur doesn’t exactly seem pleased to be pulled from eating his leafy plate to go and feed actual real reindeer, which Merlin takes as further evidence that he must be a fun-hating wanker. He would have gone on his own, only the bucket of hay is pretty big and one look at it told him carrying it without walking into a wall really is a two person job. 

“Of course we’d have bloody reindeer. Why the fuck wouldn’t we have bloody reindeer?” Arthur was whispering under his breath.

Merlin sighs. “Arthur, reindeer are exciting. It’s so festive!”

Arthur glances over with a pained expression. “Right, but what does that even mean? Festive?” He drones on. “Just another word for tacky, my Father says,” he adds, but then his face falls. That’s weird, Merlin decides, but that’s hardly different from everything else about the man. 

“Your Dad sounds like a prick.” He opts for saying. Arthur just grunts. 

When they reach the reindeer, Merlin drops the bucket onto Arthurs foot and races over to the fence. 

“Look at them!” He gasps, reaching to stroke the closest one behind an antler. It doesn’t seem to mind, so he doesn’t stop. Arthur, on the other hand, apparently minds a lot. 

“That’s filthy.” He nags, but his voice is unusually monotone.

“Fuck’s sake, I’m gonna wash my hands before I serve more food. Get over it.” 

Arthur just grunts, again. Merlin sighs, thinking back on their conversation and feeling guilty. Despite Arthur’s status as an arsehole, Merlin honestly didn’t like upsetting people. Not properly. Annoying people, absolutely, but he can admit that insulting his family was a bit far. Because, to be fair, Arthur can say what he likes about Merlin, but if he ever said anything against his Mam that would be truly shitty.

“Right, fine, I shouldn’t have said anything about your Dad. I’ve never met him, he’s probably not a prick. Okay?

Arthur started. “Oh, no. That’s not - no. He definitely is a prick. Massive one.” 

“Oh. What’s wrong then?” Merlin frowns, his nose scrunched.

“You don’t care.” Arthur laughs, rolling his eyes and starting to shake hay into the enclosure. 

Unfortunately, Merlin finds that he does. As much as he hates Arthur, he also hates it when people pretend not to be upset, so he looks up from the reindeer. 

“No, I do, for some reason. So unless you’re just being an unreasonable cabbagehead who hates christmas, you should tell me.” 

Arthur knocks his head back against the wall of the grotto, but jumps back up when it actually shakes.

“It’s not a big deal, Merlin. I’ve just been trying not to think about Father, really. First Christmas without him.” 

Merlin’s eyes widen. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, fuck, no. Not like that. He’s fine.” Arthur says, quickly, and then, quieter, “We had a. Disagreement. He sort of. Never wants to see me again. Won’t even let me finish uni. Definitely no christmas.”

Merlin shook his head. “Fuck. Sounds like a prick,” he says, and Arthur laughs, quietly. 

“Exactly.”

“What _are_ you doing for Christmas, then?” Merlin asks, hesitantly.

“Don’t know. Nothing, I suppose.” 

For a wild moment, Merlin desperately wants to ask Arthur to come and spend Christmas with him and his family. But then he remembers that they don’t like each other, and this sort of not only civil, but also personal, conversation is very out of the ordinary for them, so instead he just says,

“Oh.”

***********************

Merlin succeeds at putting Arthur out of his mind for the rest of the day, instead choosing to focus on his excitement to get back to the flat. This was his third year living with Will, and they always made a big deal of Christmas. They had tried living in a proper city, in Manchester, for a year, when they were eighteen and wanted to get on with life. Merlin had to make the commute to the garden centre, every day on the train, the stations getting less and less shiny as he went. Will had laughed, and told him that he should just quit and get a job in the city like he did, but Merlin hated the idea of selling greasy Maccies burgers or overpriced Starbucks coffee, like Will switched between. The garden centre was right for him. He got to get away from the smoke and cars and skyscrapers and exist in his little corner of the world, where he could sometimes sell plants but more often sell toys and books and wallpaper and clothes for old ladies. After a year of paying far too much rent, though, they had sat at a broken table in their tiny kitchen and made the obvious choice to move closer to home. They had grown up in a little village, and had no intentions of going back there, but the town next to it - the one where the garden centre was - that seemed like the best choice. So they went back and found a little flat in an old block on the outskirts of town, and Merlin loved it. It was theirs. 

And growing up, Hunith, Merlin’s Mam, had always been big on Christmas. She hadn’t had the most money, but she had covered their cottage in shiny lights and tinsel and Will’s Dad was hardly around so he spent most of his time there too, and both the boys had had Christmas decorating instilled into them as one of the most important things there is. So, Merlin is understandably quite excited.

He serves tea and coffee and cake, distracting himself from any feelings of pity for Arthur, and before he knows it he is back home with a hot chocolate in one hand and a custard cream in the other, and Will is wrapping his neck in tinsel like a scarf.

“Almost started without you, you big git. It’s literally fucking dark, mate. What took you so long?” 

“Work. I have a job. You could always give it more of a go, before I resort to selling you on the black market,” Merlin says, but he knows he would pay Will’s rent forever if it meant he could keep living with the closest thing he has to a brother. Will laughs, and throws a plastic bauble at Merlin’s head. 

As they’re messily wrapping tinsel around the tree, Merlin glances at Will.

“You’re at Mam’s for Christmas again this year, yeah?” 

“Course,” Will grins. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Anyways, ‘s’not like I have anywhere else to be.” 

Merlin grimaces. _Arthur_ has nowhere at all to be. Yes, he’s a pompous arse, but apparently he’s one who has been sent away from his family, and it doesn’t sound like he has much of anyone. 

“Oh!” Will says, “but not Christmas Eve. Goin’ over to Sefa's.” 

“Sefa?” 

“Yeah, y’know that bird from a couple weeks back? The one I ditched you for at the Stag?”

Merlin laughs, and nods.

“I’m sort of seeing her, I reckon.” 

“Good for you!” Merlin beams, and he means it. She seemed nice, even if she did force Merlin to pay the full price for a taxi.

“Cheers, mate,” Will says, shaking his head deferentially, and then an evil sort of look flits onto his face. “You should find someone, Merls! I know loads of blokes I could set you up with!”

“Absolutely not. You have horrendous taste in friends,” Merlin giggles, then pauses. “Obviously apart from me.”

***********************

The next few days pass without incident, and Merlin doesn’t speak to Arthur much but finds himself staring over more and more. He decides not to question why. He also starts to worry. Christmas has always been Merlin’s favourite time of year, and so the idea that somebody he knows is going to be miserable on Christmas Day itself doesn’t feel right. He is standing at the entrance of the Meeting Father Christmas Queue, with Lance at his side, grinning at the children he collects Christmas messages from. The basket of letters is getting full, but they’re not to take them to the collection point until the end of the day. 

Lance is telling Merlin his Christmas plans in between ushering excited kids past. He’s going to be spending it with Gwen, which is lovely. Gwen is a year older than Merlin, and has been working at the Pine for even longer than he has, and Lance didn’t start long after Merlin. They’ve been there the longest, out of the younger employees, and Merlin had been teasing them about getting together for long enough before they actually did a couple of years ago. Sure, when Lance proposed to her in September it felt a bit soon to Merlin, none of them being over the age of twenty two and all, but if they’re happy, he is, and they deserve a good Christmas. Merlin shifts the letter basket to his other arm, the idea of Christmas day reminding him of his concern for Arthur. 

“Hey, Lance?” Merlin says as a young girl with her curly hair in bunches tied with red ribbon bounds past.

“Mm?” 

“Have you heard what Arthur’s doing for Christmas?

“Arthur _Pendragon_?” Lance raises his eyebrows. “No, why?”

Merlin sighs. “Ah, no reason.”

“I thought you hated him,” Lance laughs. “Why do you care?”

“Hah, no, I definitely do,” Merlin smirks, but despite that he feels a warmth that Arthur has told him something that other people don’t know. He doesn’t want to gossip, so he ends up saying, “He just never talks about it like the rest of us.”

“I expect he’ll be seeing family. He must have a rich one, the way he acts, right?” 

Merlin shrugs. “Yeah, probably.”

Lance asks Gwen if she’s heard, when she comes over to hug Merlin and kiss Lance at the end of her shift, as the sky is starting to darken in the way it does in the middle of December afternoons. She hasn’t heard anything either. Merlin frowns. Gwen was probably the closest to Arthur out of everyone at the Pine, but still she says she doesn’t know about his family. Merlin fidgets, uncomfortable with being trusted by somebody like Arthur.

Still, he tries not to think too much into it. He did ask, after all.

*****************

Once the moon is shining contentedly in the sky and the last customers have trickled out of the shop, Lance leads the way down the path where the queue was towards the train ride. With a grin, Merlin climbs onto it. Lance rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“No,” Lance says firmly.

“C’mon! We never get a go! We have to get these to the big guy somehow!” Merlin chimes.

“You do realise it’s quicker to walk, right?” Lance sighs, but shuffles into the carriage anyway.

Merlin reaches over to the lever that makes the train run, and whoops as it starts to move, blasting Santa Claus is Coming to Town through the terrible speakers. Lance buries his head in his hands, but he is definitely laughing too.

It stops abruptly and Lance shoves Merlin out of the train. 

“Now go on,” Lance says. “Deliver the letters like a good little elf.” 

Merlin shoves him back, but grudgingly does reach for the basket.

“He does have the ears for it.” 

Merlin looks around to see Arthur standing by the grotto, filling the cubby holes that are on the way out with toys from the children’s section of the Centre.

“Excuse me?” He asks, one eyebrow raised.

“An elf. You’d make a good one.” Arthur sneers.

And right away, all of Merlin’s thoughts of sympathy for the Prat vanish. 

“Really, guys?” Lance sighs.

Merlin decides not to dignify either of them with a response, and instead picks up that basket and storms away, into the grotto, focusing very hard on not dropping anything because he knows he drops things a lot and that would significantly ruin his dramatic exit. 

The grotto, with it’s warm roaring fire, cosy armchairs and wooden walls seems to melt away the stress immediately. Merlin pauses for a moment. Just for a minute, he allows himself to feel the way he did when he was ten and he and Will were brought here to meet Father Christmas by his Mam. It was obviously a different layout, and the actor would have been a different one back then, but being in that room lets him feel like a child at Christmas again. It feels almost magical.

“Hiya,” he calls. “Got some letters to drop off, mate.” When there’s no response, he shrugs and empties the basket into the cardboard box they are using. It’s been covered in red wrapping paper, but it’s not particularly well done and Merlin can definitely make out the plant supplier company name through the gaps. He spins back around, bracing himself for the cold. Then he jumps, slightly, when he sees the father christmas, sitting in his chair on the other side of the room. His beard is real, which Merlin decides is a nice touch, and his coat is a dark red velvet. Merlin’s almost jealous of how soft it looks. Something about the man looks almost familiar, in a strange way, but he can’t quite place it.

“Oh!” He laughs out. “Have you been here this whole time?” 

“Ah, no,” comes the man’s rich voice. “Just got in.” 

Merlin nods. “Good day?” he asks, remembering his manners.

“Oh, it’s been wonderful,” the man smiles. “Now, off you go. I imagine your destiny is waiting.” 

“My what?” Merin asks, bemused, but turns to the door anyway, pulling his red scarf tighter. He reaches for the door handle, pulls it open. But when he turns to say goodbye, the room is empty. There’s a back door, leading out to the other side, where the reindeer are, so Merlin supposes he must have left there. Merlin laughs to himself as he heads back out to the train.

“You met the new Santa yet, Lance?” he calls as he gets near.

“Not yet, no. Why?”

“He was in there. Seems nice. Massive weirdo, like, but not in a bad way,” Merlin shrugs, and then throws the now empty basket at his friend. Lance catches it, shouts, “Coming, Arthur?”, and the three of them make their way back to the carpark together. Somebody will have to deal with the train in the morning. Ah well.

********************

Gwen and Gwaine come over to the flat for drinks that night. Lance was invited, but he’s busy with his family, so they only order enough Chinese takeaway for the four of them. Merlin lights an advent candle, and switches on all the twinkling lights, and smiles happily when Gwen adds presents for Will and him underneath the tree. 

“You’re brilliant, Gwen,” he decides. “Obviously I haven’t bought yours yet because I’m not amazingly organised. Seriously, where’d you even find the time?” 

Gwen just laughs and shrugs. Gwaine rolls his eyes good-naturedly, mouthing ‘suck up’ from behind her back. Even he isn’t stupid enough to say it to her face. He found out long ago that Gwen is not as passive as you would first think, with her wide smiles and twinkling eyes, when he first joined the team at the Pine and first flirted with her, and later her boyfriend. Gwen somehow managed to get Annie and Cenred to put him on cleaning duty for the rest of the month.

Once the takeaway arrives, at half nine, way later than it was promised, Will dives in first, rummaging through boxes with his typical boisterous enthusiasm. Soon, though, the plates have been filled and they are sitting on the sofas, happily stuffing their faces.

“So, Merlin,” Gwen starts, from around a mouthful of rice, “Why were you asking about Arthur before? Really, I mean.” 

Gwaine turns to stare at Merlin, smirking. “Oh?”

“Not like that, idiot,” Merlin waves a fork. 

“Well. Unless,” Gwen drawls, and Merlin decides she must be going mad. 

“I hate him. He is a stuck up, posh, annoying prat. Unless nothing.” 

“I dunno, mate. You were awful keen not to let me set you up with anyone,” Will says. Like a traitor. 

Merlin hates them all. It’s a ridiculous idea. Obviously, yes, Merlin can see that Arthur is attractive. Objectively. But he is also rude and standoffish and acts like he knows better than everyone and he is clearly emotionally stunted. And also very definitely straight. Merlin groans.

“You’re all the worst,” he says in earnest. Looking over at Gwaine and Will, he says, “I was only asking if anyone knew what he’s doing for Christmas. Because I don’t like people being sad on Christmas. That’s all there is to it.”

Gwen giggles.

****************

By the tenth, Merlin has gotten into what he likes to think of as his Christmas routine. Wake up in the dark, eat breakfast and an advent chocolate, go to work unless it’s Wednesday or Sunday because those are his days off, avoid Arthur, get home in the dark, watch a Christmas film, and sleep. It’s a foolproof routine. So far he has worked his way through a good portion of the dvd cupboard and a good section of Netflix, in fact. The only real issue with the plan is Arthur. Because they keep getting put on shifts together, no matter how much Merlin complains. 

Today is no different. They are in the tearoom again, but the kids are at school, so it’s much quieter than it has been. If he was working with anyone else, he’d be glad for it. It would give him a chance to sit down and chat. With Arthur, however, that is actually the one thing he can’t let happen. He just knows, if he opens his mouth to say anything, the only thing that would come out is, ‘oh, by the way, why is your life so sad and why does nobody else know and why do I care? I’m supposed to hate you.’ And that really would be quite offensive. 

Instead, he pulls out his phone to text Will. It’s not like he’ll be doing anything important, the way he still hasn’t managed to get a new job. Merlin’s been meaning to ask Annie to just employ him. He’d go and do it now, if she was in. As it is, he is left awkwardly standing here, with Arthur, who leaning on the counter lazily in a way that does excellent things with his clothes, not that Merlin is looking. 

When the bell on the door chimes, signalling a customer, Merlin leaps up at the welcome distraction. Arthur, on the other hand, takes one look at the door before his face falls and he darts into the back room, whispering, “I’m not here, okay?” 

Merlin huffs out a confused laugh, but turns to greet the couple who have come in. 

“Morning,” he smiles. “What can I do for you?”

The woman across from him is looking up at the menu on the wall behind Merlin. She pulls off her leather gloves, distracted, letting go of the hand of her boyfriend, Merlin assumes. Her long, dark hair falls in front of her face as she looks up. Merlin can’t decide whether to be jealous or scared of her. 

“Oo, just a latte and a blueberry muffin, please.”

Merlin nods. “And you?” He asks the man in the somewhat confusing combination of high end designer and sports wear. Somehow it doesn’t even look bad. 

“Tea and chocolate cake, thanks.”

“No problem. Go grab a table, you’ve got quite the choice,” he laughs. “I’ll bring it over.”

Once they turn around, heading over to a table by the windows, next to the Christmas tree, Merlin pokes his head through the door in the back. Arthur is standing there, tucked between shelves with his back pressed to the wall, his breathing hurried. Merlin clears his throat, and Arthur starts.

“You okay?” Merlin asks, slowly.

Arthur nods. “Are they gone?” 

“Uh. No, Arthur. They’re sitting down. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” The answer is definitely too fast. “ I’ll just be here. If you need me, then.” Arthur is nodding now, almost manically. Merlin shrugs, worried, but at a loss, and goes to take the couple their order.

Surprisingly, Merlin has actually mastered the art of carrying multiple cups of hot liquid without spilling anything on the tray. Will still doesn’t believe him, and won’t let him anywhere near cups of tea in the flat. He does have a point. Merlin is almost irredeemably clumsy. But he hasn’t had this job for five years for nothing, and so he manages to get the tray over to the table in what he sees as a dignified manner. He sets it down to murmurs of thanks, and really is about to leave them to it, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

“You know, my colleague is hiding from you. Any idea why that would be?” 

The couple look at each other, startled, and laugh nervously.

“Haven’t the foggiest, darling!” The woman says, head shaking.

“I suppose Morgana here can be a very scary lady.” The man shrugs, lightheartedly. 

Merlin cocks his head, thinking back to Arthur’s expression of dismay. Also, Arthur hardly seems like the type to run away from strangers. 

“Hm, no. It definitely seemed like he knew you. Are you completely sure you don’t have any mortal enemies?”

They laugh. “Not that I know of!” The man shakes his head.

“Go on, tell us. What’s his name?” The woman, Morgana, apparently, adds.

Merlin narrows his eyes. “Not sure I should tell you.”

“Oh don’t be like that. I promise we’re just passing through town! We aren’t here to murder anyone!” Morgana smiles. 

“See, I didn’t really have that in mind. But now I definitely do.”

The man sighs, and shrugs. Merlin stands for a moment, considering his options, before remembering he doesn’t particularly care about Arthur and protecting his identity.

“Arthur,” he says. “Arthur Pendragon.”

He doesn’t really expect much recognition, so when the pair immediately turn to each other in clear shock, eyes widening with sharp intakes of breath, Merlin flinches. 

“Oh. Oh wow,” the man whispers.

“Well?” Merlin asks, nervously.

“Mm. That’s. Well, that’s my brother, sort of.” Morgana’s voice is shaking, slightly.

Merl’s stomach sinks. Shit. Arthur clearly has all these family issues going on and it’s really got nothing to do with him and now he’s gone and put his foot in it. 

“Really?” He asks stupidly.

“Mmm. We haven’t seen him in. Well, months. He had this big fall out with Father and skipped town, dropped out of uni, and now he won’t answer any of our calls. And now Father won’t breathe a word about it. Darling, please. Is he okay?”

“Uh. I think so?” Merlin tries. “I don’t really know him that well.” He fully intends to leave it at that, but with a perverse sort of interest, he asks, “What did they fall out about?” 

“Oh, we haven’t any idea. It’s been awful, getting ready for Christmas when Father won’t even acknowledge he exists.”

“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry. I should go.” Merlin says, guiltily, and turns back, but Morgana grabs onto his arm. Her grip is surprisingly tight, nails sharp.

“Tell him Leon and I want to talk to him. And that I love the daft sod, okay?” 

Merlin nods. He pulls his arm out of Morgana’s grip and takes a deep breath, feeling a surprisingly overwhelming fondness for Arthur. The prat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the cliffhanger and also the subpar writing lol
> 
> the next chapter will be out asap though!


	2. holly jolly christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas!!!! 
> 
> i’m gonna be honest, this was going to be three chapters. but i never got around to writing the third one, and this one i did write last night in a panic remembering i wanted to do it. so if there are typos, maybe overlook them. cheers 
> 
> i think i did manage to tie it up nicely, even though it’s not quite where i wanted to end it. you never know, next year i might add the third chapter!
> 
> but for now, thank you so much for reading, and have a very merry christmas <3

“So.”

Merlin is standing in the doorway to the back room, where Arthur is hiding. He leans his right hand against the door frame, and belatedly notices his left is on his hip. He feels a bit like a middle aged housewife, but can’t quite bring himself to stop now. That would mean admitting to embarrassment. Anyway, Arthur is hardly in a position to judge. He has pulled his mobile out of his pocket and is clearly trying to forget where he is, wedged in between shelves and cupboards. He looks up, eyebrows raised in what Merlin thinks is an admirably arrogant move for one hiding behind bulk packs of tea bags. “Sister, huh?” he hedges. 

Arthur looks over, an expression of surprise flickering over his face before it settles into the customary glare. 

“I know it’s none of my business,” Merlin states, ‘but she did want me to tell you she wants to talk to you. And the guy was nodding a lot so I’m pretty sure he did too.” 

“I , _told_ you not to fucking _say_ anything.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I thought she might just be some ex that you didn’t fancy talking to, or something. I didn’t realise I was actually sticking my foot in something big. But if you want my opinion”-

“I don’t”- 

“You should talk. She seemed nice enough.” 

Arthur looks over, scornfully. 

“Okay, no, she was bloody terrifying, but she still wanted to see you and she’s family and I think that counts for something, right?”

“Merlin. I cannot stress enough how little this involves you,” Arthur growls, and Merlin stops talking. He feels his face flush, and looks away. 

“No. ‘Course. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. I’ll shut up.” 

He expects Arthur to be angry, maybe to shout, definitely to tell him to fuck off. So it’s a surprise when Arthur puts his phone away slowly, leans his head back and says,  
“I suppose you never do think. Can’t blame an idiot for being stupid,” which, okay, is cruel. But he says it so warmly that Merlin has to pause for a moment to even realise he has been insulted. He shrugs back, a small smile playing on his lips. Arthur sighs, and sinks down the wall to the floor. Merlin stands stupidly for a moment, before deciding to join him down there and sits, his legs crossed.

“What did she say, exactly?” Arthur whispers.

“Not much, I’m afraid. I’m fairly sure she said something about still loving you.”

Arthur makes a noise which could be a laugh. “Bullshit. She’s not that sentimental.”

“No, honest she did! Though she did sound quite annoyed about it.”

There is a silence then, and it’s not that long, but it does last long enough that Merlin lets his mind wander, and start worrying about the tearoom and it’s customers. He hopes none of them are waiting and getting annoyed, and he hopes it doesn’t make him a bad person to be worried about that at the same time as Arthur’s slight emotional breakdown. 

“Did she tell you anything about me?” Arthur asks.

“Nothing I didn’t know already. You fell out with your Dad, who is a dick. Said she didn’t even know why.”

Arthur definitely does laugh, then, but there’s little joy in it. “Wonderful.”

Merlin bites his lip. “So, obviously you don’t need to tell me anything, right. But it doesn’t sound like you’ve got many people to talk to, given that you’re spending Christmas on your own, and nobody else here seems to know a fucking thing about you, really. And I can shut up and mind my own business if you want, but also if you do need somebody, I’m here,” Merlin says. That feels far too heartfelt, though. “Also, I’d _love_ it if you could satisfy my curiosity.” Much better.

Arthur sighs, but he does look a little more hopeful than he did a moment ago, Merlin notes with some satisfaction. 

“I just,” Arthur says, and stops. He lets out a groan, and Merlin tries not to dwell on the sound of it. “No. It’s nothing.” 

Merlin stares silently, hoping more is coming. It admittedly seems unlikely. Arthur slaps his knees ceremoniously, and shakes his head as though to clear it. 

“Right. You can go tell her I have nothing to say, and I’ll get back to work.”

Merlin places a hand over his heart, dramatically. “You gonna show your face?” 

Arthur winces, but nods. Merlin takes a careful look at him, taking in his pale face and furrowed brows, and says, “No.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Right. What you’re going to do is get out of the tearoom and find a loo with a nice sink to go rinse your face in, or a mirror for a pep talk, or some bloody floor space to go meditate for all I care. Just go sort yourself out and if you’re sure you can’t talk to them, I’ll get them a takeaway bag and send them on their ways. Yeah?” 

Arthur seems to relax at Merlin taking charge, and Merlin decides there’s no harm in filing that information away to think about in great detail later. 

Arthur takes a deep breath and nods slowly, before jumping up and racing out. Merlin watches as he leaves the tearoom without once looking over at Morgana and Leon. He is glad to see that there isn’t a queue of people waiting, and so he stays hidden a moment longer to sort out his thoughts. 

The thing is, Arthur isn’t like this. He isn’t somebody Merlin has ever known to back out of something just because it scares him. He is arrogant, and headstrong, and never thinks before he speaks, so seeing him so shaken up makes Merlin pretty unsure what to do with himself. He picks himself up from the floor, and walks back over to the table that has become such a point of stress. 

“Okay. So Arthur was against the idea,” he says, somewhat unnecessarily. 

“We gathered,” Morgana hisses, tapping a nail against the table.

“Christ, what’s gotten into him?” Leon mumbles, more to himself. 

“Pull up a chair, Merlin,” Morgana says. 

Merlin does, and finds himself partially sitting inside the Christmas tree, but decides not to complain. He’s wearing a Christmas jumper his Mam made, as the staff are all expected to wear them now, apparently, so he does make a point not to rip it on the ornaments. 

“You should leave, before he gets back in here, by the way. I promised I’d get you to.”

They both ignore him. 

“You don’t know him well, you say?” Leon asks.

“No. Not really. I’ve, uh, never thought that much of him,” Merlin says, and then proceeds to panic about being rude. “That’s probably a me problem, though, like, everyone else gets on with him fine. Nothing against the man.” he adds in a rush. 

Luckily, Morgana and Leon just laugh. 

“No, this is good,” Morgana announces. “He can be wildly unlikable.”

“Mm. At least this means he can’t have changed too much,” Leon smiles. 

Morgana rifles through her bag and pulls out an iPhone. 

“Here, I’ll give you my number. I’ll work this out. Now we know where he is, we can’t just give up.”

Merlin shrugs and adds it to his contacts, and Morgana and Leon start to gather their things. 

“Oh, and, Merlin?”

“Hm?” 

“Another message to pass on. Let the plonker know that whatever they fell out about, we’re on his side. Leon’s been his best friend since they were, what, five? And I stopped speaking to Uther for a year after I found out he was my father. So the point is, both of us have more loyalty to my daft brother than that man. Remind him of that.”

Merlin can only nod as they bluster out.

***************

It’s just a few days later when Merlin gets his first phone call from Morgana. He is writing cards when his phone rings, and he answers it with some surprise.

 _“We have decided to stage a sit in.”_

“Hello Morgana. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

_“Leon and I. And some of our other friends. We’re staying nearby, and so we are coming to your little cafe and staying all day and eventually he will have to speak to us.”_

“Right.”

_“So, Merlin, I need you to let me know when he’s working there next.”_

Merlin considers this. He can tell that Morgana won’t be dissuaded, but Arthur’s next shift in the tearoom is with Gwaine, and he wouldn’t even be remotely supportive. So, instead, Merlin exhales, and tells her the date of the next time they are there together. 

_“Marvelous. I’ll see you then,”_ Morgana says, and hangs up. Merlin shakes his head and goes back to the cards. 

**********************

Morgana does show up at the next shift, as promised. Leon is with her, and they have brought along what seems to be quite the entourage. Merlin gulps when a man who is probably three times the size of him comes to ask for a strawberry muffin. 

Arthur, though, is nowhere to be seen. The moment they came into the room, he cursed to himself and fled into the back, and now he is doing a very good job of pretending he doesn’t actually work there. Morgana notices this, and beckons Merlin over with her lips pursed.

“This is ridiculous,” she fumes. 

Merlin wholeheartedly agrees, though he isn’t actually sure which sibling is more annoying.

“Let me introduce you,” Leon says, seeming to remember Merlin hasn’t met most of the group. “That’s Percy, Mithian, Viv, and Elyan.”

Percy is the huge one, but Merlin is less intimidated now he has icing on his nose. Viv has long blonde hair and is drinking a gingerbread latte, and Mithian has a mince pie on her plate. Elyan looks at Merlin and smiles. 

“Hi there. I, uh wonder if you know my sister? Gwen, she’s called.”

Merlin blinks. “Smith?” 

“That’s the one!”

“She’s never mentioned a brother.”

“No, I don’t expect she has. I haven’t seen her in far too long, but I bumped into her this morning. She wasn’t best pleased.” Elyan admits, and he looks embarrassed. Merlin nods, carefully, deciding to go and check on Gwen as soon as he gets the chance.

“Two birds, one stone and all!” Morgana chimes. “Quite the coincidence, really. I mean, we came to the area in the hopes of reuniting them for Christmas. Never expected it to be a joint mission, though.” 

Merlin notices movement through the window, out of the corner of his eye. Thinking it could be Arthur, he turns quickly, but the only person he sees is the Pine’s Father Christmas, ambling past the glass.

*************

They return every day, for the next four days. The whole group sometimes, sometimes just Morgana and the boys. Over that time, they have gotten to know the staff well. Gwaine and Lance seem to have befriended them easily, and when they are not too busy they come and sit at the table too. Most of the staff know very little about why they are there, having told nobody anything but that they want to see an old friend. Merlin hears Freya and Elena talking about Gwen and Elyan. He doesn’t feel the need to correct anyone, mostly because he respects secrets, but also because he is guiltily pleased to be singularly in the know about Arthur’s life.

Merlin is pleased to note that Gwen seems to be speaking more to Elyan. Merlin insisted she came over to his flat the night after he first met the man, to get the full story. He kicked Will out, who took it in his stride in his typical easygoing way that Merlin envied. Gwen couldn’t bring herself to admit much until they had drunk a full bottle of red wine between them, but then Merlin learned that when Gwen’s mother died, and she had to find work, her older brother had run off somewhere to escape it all. Merlin tried not to show his outrage at first, but then decided Gwen would welcome it and they raved together. By the end of the night, somehow, they concluded that Elyan was only a kid at the time, too, and second chances were important, even if they didn’t come with immediate forgiveness. So now she comes to sit at the table and they laugh together sometimes, and Gwen seems happy. She brought Elyan a jumper on the third day, with a robin stitched onto the front, and Elyan bought some flowers from her just to give right back. 

Arthur and Morgana, on the other hand, have not been making progress. Possibly the opposite of it, even. He has only had one shift in the tearoom over the time, with Lance, who seemed confused as to why Arthur kept vanishing, but took it in his stride nonetheless. 

Merlin, though, doesn’t know the best way to help. Or why he wants to help so badly. He has made a point of following Arthur whenever he vanishes, and he is starting to realise he’s going to have to admit to himself that he definitely no longer hates the man, now. Not now that he has no choice but to see him as a real, vulnerable, human. It’s upsetting, because he still feels something strong for the blonde, and now he can’t pass it off as hatred he doesn’t really want to analyse what it could be.

But in between hastily serving customers, or stocking shelves, or watering plants, Merlin finds himself hiding with Arthur in ridiculous places. They have crouched behind robotic elves. They have hidden in the men’s toilets and leant against the doors to stop other people opening them. They have even sat on the floor in the reindeer pen. And all the while, they have been talking. Merlin still doesn’t know anything about Arthur’s family, but he is starting to find he doesn’t care. He actually does really enjoy talking to Arthur. He has learnt that Arthur’s favourite film is The Sword in the Stone, which he watched all the time when he was young, but he usually tells everyone it is Fight Club, which he has actually never seen. He thinks Die Hard is obviously a Christmas Film. (Merlin disagrees.) He thinks that Christmas music in general is a cash grab, which Merlin gasps in horror at. He has never liked baking, and never learned to cook because they had staff for that, growing up. In turn, Merlin tells him about his lovely mother, and Will who is sort of his brother, and how his Mam is the best baker he knows, and he and Will are terrible but Merlin still tries sometimes. Arthur smiles at that, but calls him a dewy-eyed toad.

To Merlin and Will’s mutual disgust, he finds himself missing Arthur when they are not at work, and so, on that fourth day, while they are leaning against Christmas trees growing in the field, Merlin finds his courage while playing with a blade of grass. 

“You aren’t working tomorrow either, right?” 

“I’m not.”

“Hm. Have you… got any plans?”

“No,” Arthur laughs. “I think we’ve established I’m pathetic already.”

“Well, probably a bit. But we could always fix that, if you like. You could always come to the markets with me.” 

Arthur looks up in surprise, and Merlin does his best to hold his gaze for the excruciatingly long pause.

“Yeah. Okay. Why not?” 

Merlin tears his eyes away when he is approached by a family looking for a tree, but turns back before he goes to bag it. 

“Brill,” he grins.

*****************

By the next morning, Merlin is regretting his offer. Not for the reasons he would have expected, though. He is genuinely looking forward to seeing Arthur outside of work. He knows he would have been horrified at himself not a fortnight ago, but he’s even looking forward to sitting next to Arthur on the train. No, dislike for the man isn’t the problem. To his dismay, Merlin realises he is nervous.

He comes to this conclusion as he is sorting through his wardrobe, early in the morning, pulling faces at his unironed t-shirts and unintentionally ripped jeans. Eventually, he ends up calling Will in for advice, which is a sure sign he must be out of his mind. 

Will’s face is one of dismay as he puts a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Merls. Listen to your Uncle Will, yeah? When I said you need to find yourself someone, this is not what I fuckin’ meant.”

“It’s not like that,” Merlin says, but it sounds like a lie even to himself.

“Yeah. It’s not like that. Same as it wasn’t like that when you got with that kid Mordred in that club. Same as it wasn’t when you and Gwaine vanished for a weekend. I feel like you should have got it by now, mate, that you cannot lie to me.”

“Oh fuck off Sherlock Holmes,” Merlin grumbles. “Either tell me what to wear or get out.”

Will laughs and reaches for a navy shirt from the pile. “Shove that on with those ridiculous black jeans you wore on my birthday. And just so you know, I don’t think you should shag him. He’ll only let you down.” 

Merlin tries to ignore Will and his pessimism, but does take his advice and squeezes into the jeans. He pulls on his boots, grabs his coat and yells a “see you!” before he leaves.

**************

He meets Arthur at the station, as they planned, and Arthur nods in greeting, with a smile. Merlin forgets how to speak, just for a moment, taking in the low v-neck of his shirt. Seeing him out of uniform, Merlin is fairly certain, is a hazard to his own wellbeing. He pulls himself together before Arthur can notice, he hopes.

“Morning, you,” he says with a grin.

“You’re late,” Arthur smirks. “Lucky for you there’s another train in a couple minutes, so all is not lost.”

Merlin hadn’t even realised, but he frowns in apology, and Arthur doesn’t seem to be annoyed. They race to the train, laughing, and sit together on the journey. It’s only a half hour ride, and the time passes fast. Merlin sits a little closer to Arthur than he feels he ought to in the name of propriety, but Arthur doesn’t seem to care.

Merlin is surprised to learn that Arthur hasn’t been to the markets they’re heading to before. Arthur just shrugs. “They’re all the same, though. Overpriced tat in little wood huts.”

To be fair, Merlin doesn’t actually disagree, but he feels he should. “Figures you’d be a prat about it.”

“Hey, I came, didn’t I?”

“You have to get into the spirit of things, or what’s the point?” Merlin says seriously, but Arthur laughs at him and Merlin can’t help but join in. 

They get off the train not long after that, and Arthur looks a little lost. 

“Oh shit. You meant you’ve never even made it out to the city, didn’t you? Like, ever?”

Arthur shrugs defensively. “Never got around to it. I’ve not lived here that long.”

Merlin can’t help but think what he means is he’s never had anyone to go with. Not for the first time, Arthur seems like a very lonely man, who doesn’t actually realise how lonely he is. Merlin nods, and spins him by his shoulders, pointing him in the direction they’re heading. Arthur flicks his cheek in mock annoyance. 

*************

The first sight of the markets is something that Merlin looks forward to every year, and this year it is not a disappointment. As they get close, Arthur seems to soften, slightly, and Merlin can’t blame him. No matter how anti-consumerism Merlin likes to think he is, there is something that feels joyful about the folk music that is getting louder as they walk, and the smell of food that wafts down the street. The stands - or chalets, as his Mam told him once - look lively, faces smiling and shouting out to the tourists. Merlin grins, grabbing Arthur by the elbow and dragging him down to the gate.

“Buy me a hot chocolate and I’ll get you a mulled wine later,” Merlin tries.

“Deal.”

As Arthur pays for their drinks, his voice coming out much posher and bossier than normal, Merlin realises that a lot of the awfulness could be an act. As they sit down on a wall to drink, all the tables being full, Merlin realises that this is a man he could really like, if he let himself. 

Fucking shit. 

“You alright? You’ve gone quiet.” Arthur looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah,” Merlin gets out, slightly breathless. “Never better.” 

Arthur quirks an eyebrow. “Cool.” 

Merlin manages to pull himself together by the time he’s got a hot drink inside of him. Arthur has been filling the time with mindless chatter of the Pine, and of the stands he can see, and of the giant inflatable Santa sitting on top of the entrance. Once he has finished his drink too, Merlin has told himself not to fall for the bastard a minimum of thirty-seven times. He’s not on the table, and Merlin would do well to remember that. Still, it’s hard when he insists on having hair that soft. Merlin has to shake off the urge to pet it. Arthur pinches Merlin’s empty cup and chucks it, and his, into a nearby bin. Merlin hears himself muttering something about killing polar bears, but Arthur only shakes his head fondly.

“Right,” Merlin says with a deep breath, casting away the crisis he’s having. There are more pressing matters at hand, after all. “We have shopping to do.”

************

The day passes easily, morning turning into afternoon and then evening. They moved on from the markets at some point around lunchtime, when they wandered off to find sandwiches. Merlin managed to get his Christmas shopping done around the city by the time it was starting to get dark. Really, the day was a success. The pair of them are sitting in a Pizza Express, waiting on their meals, when Merlin finds himself staring again. By all accounts, he should not be interested. Arthur, despite the revelations Merlin has been having, is still not someone he would normally spend time with by choice. He had to be convinced that the food in this restaurant wouldn’t give him poisoning, for heaven’s sake, whereas Merlin is more the type to think of it as fancy eating. But for some reason, Merlin can’t look away. Will’s going to kill him.

Arthur looks up, noticing Merlin’s eyes on him. Merlin looks away guiltily, but Arthur seems to be blushing too. He seems to be stealing himself for something, so Merlin tries to look friendly. He stops. He figures he probably just looks constipated. 

“I’m ready to talk about my family now,” Arthur says, quietly.

Merlin starts. “Yeah? You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know. I want to.”

“To… me?” 

“Yes, you, idiot. Unless you’re hiding somebody else here under the table.”

Merlin chuckles. “Right, yeah. Okay. Tell me something.”

Arthur looks down at his hands. “Morgana and I grew up together not thinking we were biologically related. She was just a family friend who Father had adopted when her father died. Then Morgana found her birth certificate and it turns out Uther cheated on my mother with her mother and she’s actually my half sister.”

“Shit. That’s fucked up. Is that... why. You know?”

“No. That might be a story for another day, I think. This is background.” 

“Okay. That’s… yeah. Okay.” Merlin presses his lips together, but tries to keep his eyes supportive.

“We never saw that much of him, anyway, when we were little. My mother passed when I was a baby, so until Morgana came when I was ten I spent most of my time with the nannies and tutors. I was probably closer to the butler than my own fucking father.”

“Woah. Butler,” Merlin says, and then grimaces. “Uh, sorry. Not judging. Carry on.”

“No, please do judge. I think that’s why I’m talking to you. Because you’re not going to pity me. It’s not like, a bloody sob story. I just think perhaps I owe you a bit of explanation and maybe saying some of this out loud will also mean you can help me with what to do next.”

Merlin bites his lip, uncomfortable. “Ok, so now I feel bad. I definitely started to feel sorry for you when you said you didn’t know what you’re up to for Christmas.”

Arthur laughs. “Well, that is fairly lame,” he smiles, but an expression of doubt starts to creep onto his face. “You’re over that now, though, right? That’s not why you invited me?” 

“Oh Jesus, ’course not. Can’t think why I actually did though, you wanker. It’s not like I enjoy your shitty company.” 

Arthur nods, satisfied. “Ok. So. anyway. I started speaking to him more when I got older. Like, I think he just isn’t great with kids. But once I was, I don’t know, a teenager, I suppose, we’d talk. And I always knew what was expected of me from him, even before that. I was definitely raised to be a mini-Uther. You know - take over the company, marry one of his friend’s daughters.”

“That’s… that’s not right, Arthur,” Merlin tries, but pauses as the meals arrive. “Cheers,” he says to the waitress, and Arthur acknowledges her with a smile.

“Obviously I know that,” Arthur says, once she’s gone. “I dunno. I just - it would be nice, to have made him proud.”

“The prick,” Merlin nods sagely, and Arthur lets out a very unmanly giggle.

*****************

“You haven’t had a go at Arthur all day,” Gwen accuses. They’re back in the tearoom, wool jumpers on. Gwen’s has an elf with bells on its shoes, Merlin went with a light up tree. 

“So?”

Gwen smirks, eyebrows raised. “He hasn’t had a go at you either.”

This is uncomfortably similar to the conversation he had with Will last night. 

“Nice day?” He’d asked, so casually. Merlin saw through it, and threw himself down on the sofa, humming in nonchalance. Will had turned to him with a smirk. “Nah. You’re not getting away with that, mister.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was fine.”

“Oh, shut up. If I told you a week ago you’d be hanging out with Pendragon for fun, Merls,” he’d hissed. 

The thing is, though, it’s not that Merlin’s trying to hide anything. It’s just that he doesn’t understand it any more than they do. The idea that he had a nice day with Arthur is baffling, even to him. And how is he supposed to explain that he’s trying to hide this man from his family, who _he_ accidentally invited to the Pine, while simultaneously doing everything he can to convince his brain to keep things platonic and not make his new friend uncomfortable? And he _knows_ that Will would tell him to back off quick, before he can get hurt, and Gwen would tell him to communicate with Arthur in a healthy, adult way. But he doesn’t want to, can’t do those things. So really how can he not just shrug.

“No. Guess not,” he tells Gwen.

“Any reason?” She is enjoying herself far too much, the way Merlins sees it. 

“Nope,” he says, smiling innocently. 

Gwen just laughs merrily, throwing a tea towel at his face. 

“You know, that’s probably not hygienic.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“No, do, actually.” 

“Whatever. Elyan’s posh lot are back, by the way. Showed up before your shift.”

Merlin gasps. He hasn’t seen them yet. He cranes his neck around the corner, and Gwen’s right. Morgana and the boys are huddled around a circular table, one by the fire. Lancelot is standing by them, stepping from foot to foot as he chats along. Gwaine has seemingly completely forgotten he’s at work altogether, having thrown himself into a chair next to Percy. 

“Why are they here, Merlin?” Gwen whispers. “I was so caught up in seeing my brother, at first, but there’s more to it, isn’t there? What’s going on?”

Merlin sighs. “It’s nothing to do with me. I just got caught up in it by accident, really. I can’t be spreading rumours, ‘s’not fair.” He turns to look her in the eyes. “But Elyan really is happy to see you. I’m told that’s why they’re in the area in the first place. Promise.” 

Gwen nods, then turns back to the counter. “Oh! Arthur!”

Arthur is standing by the till, studiously averting his eyes from the tables. 

“S’alright, they’re round the corner,” Merlin mumbles.

Arthur straightens up. Merlin stifles a laugh. 

“Merlin,” he says, hesitantly. Gwen seems to think that’s her cue to take off, grabbing a bleach spray and speeding to a deserted table.

“Arthur,” Merlin replies.

“I was just wondering what time you get off. We could walk somewhere together, if you like..”

Merlin pauses for a moment, reeling. Fuck, he so badly wishes that was a line. But he’s fallen for straight guys before, (although admittedly never in a way that feels so serious), and he knows better than to hear hidden messages that aren’t really there. He forces himself to grin.

“You know how that sounds, yeah?” 

Arthur’s eyes widen. “Ah. Well, of course, I didn’t mean. You know, I didn’t mean to imply any- well.”

Merlin lets him bluster for a moment, watching as his cheeks redden prettily, before holding up a finger and starting to laugh.

“Kidding, mate.”

Arthur’s face relaxes, and he huffs a laugh. “Shut up, Merlin.”

“In an hour, yeah?. I’ll meet you out by the reindeer.” 

“Perfect.”

****************

It’s half dark, again, by the time Merlin walks out to Arthur. The other man hasn’t seen him yet, and Merlin watches as he pets the head of a deer as one would a dog. Hypocrite. He has to bite his cheeks to hold back the sort of smile that Will says makes him look simple. He can’t help it, though, not really. Arthur always seems so grumpy, or aloof, and Merlin has started to see a side of him that nobody else really gets to, and that’s nice.

“Alright, Sugarplum?” He calls.

“Fucking Sugarplum?” Arthur splutters.

Merlin tilts his head with a shrug. “It was the name of an elf in this book my Mam used to read us at Christmas.”

“An elf?” Arthur complains. He doesn’t seem particularly reassured.

“Yup. C’mon Sugarplum, let’s walk.”

Arthur pulls out a bottle of hand sanitiser as they go, and Merlin flicks his arm in exasperation. 

Arthur purses his lips. “You cannot keep calling me sugarplum, by the way. Makes us sound like somebody’s grandparents being soppy.”

“I absolutely can. Darling.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Honey.”

“Idiot.”

“Prat.”

Arthur shoves Merlin into a puddle, and they laugh, quietly. Merlin ignores the voice in his head telling him that this will only hurt him later.

“You were late, by the way,” Arthur says. “You make quite the habit of it.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Merlin says, halfheartedly. “Had to ring Will, let him know I might be later than normal.”

Arthur slows for a moment, but Merlin’s not actually sure if he imagined it. “Who’s Will? A… boyfriend?” 

Merlin snorts. “Fuck no. Just a mate. Roomate. He can be bloody protective though, so I reckoned it’d be better to let him know I’ve not been stabbed.”

“Hah. Yes, probably best. Does your boyfriend worry like that, too, then?” He pauses. “Or girlfriend. I shouldn’t assume.”

If Merlin didn’t know better, that would sound an awful lot like jealousy.

“Haven’t got one. Boyfriend, though. You were right.” 

Arthur smiles, and it makes him look younger. Free, even. Merlin wonders for a moment if he’s been wrong, about Arthur. It’s a ridiculous idea, and not one he dares consider seriously, but, well. Wouldn’t it be nice? Merlin clears his throat. 

“So, why have you whirled me away? Is this just a nice walk or is there a reason?”

Arthur doesn’t reply for a while, which Merlin takes to mean there’s a bit more to it. He stays quiet too, giving Arthur room to think, and letting the sound of footsteps in the grass fill the gap. 

“I thought I might like to tell you about my Father.”

Merlin’s breath catches. He feels a surge of pride at being trusted by somebody so closed, and looks over at Arthur. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, and Merlin gives him a small smile. 

“Take your time,” Merlin says in earnest, shaking his head. They keep walking together, and Merlin realises he doesn’t actually know where to. He’s been letting Arthur lead, and now they’re walking down the path at the edge of a rover, following it slowly. There’s a busy road on the other side of it, not truly blocked by the trees, but it feels peaceful anyway. 

“So. He disowned me.” 

Merlin frowns. “That’s, like, a real thing?”

Arthur laughs, but it’s bitter. “Well, if you have money. I was supposed to be the heir to his business, before. I was in my last year of uni and he cut my funds. I had to drop out.”

“Shit.” 

“Yeah. Left with nothing. I know I was awful when I started working here. Sorry, for that, by the way. I think it was just a self defence sort of thing.”

“You were bad,” Merlin says. He should really learn to think before he speaks. Luckily, Arthur just slaps his leg lightly with a chuckle. 

“Mm. You’re not wrong, honestly. I think I just didn’t quite know how to not be the Pendragon heir. You know? How to just be a person?”

“That’s… that’s sad, Arthur. If it helps, I’m sorry too. For not giving you a chance.”

“No, I think you helped. Showed me that I couldn’t just get anything I want anymore.”

Merlin smirks, throwing sarcastic jazz hands in the air. “Ah, well then. Just doing my bit.” 

“Idiot.”

“What happened, then?” Merlin asks, gently, 

Arthur takes a deep breath. “Told him something he didn’t want to hear. I mean. I knew he was a git, even before that. But he was still my Dad, you know? I always thought I’d come first, even if we didn’t… agree about some things.”

Merlin frowns. 

In a quiet voice, Arthur grunts, and says, “I told him I’m gay.”

Merlin stops walking, emotions flooding him. There’s a flicker of overwhelming shock, and excitement, and that gives way quickly to fucking fury at Arthur’s dad. But then he looks over at Arthur, who is pressing his lips together, breathing heavily, and realises that that isn’t what he needs. 

“Oh, Arthur,” he sighs, and goes to him, arms open. Arthur relaxes into his embrace, and they stand for a while, wrapped in each other in the cold. Once Merlin hears Arthur’s calmed breaths, he pulls himself away and looks his friend in the eyes. He knows Arthur wouldn’t want him to acknowledge the tears, so he dutifully ignores them. “Well done for saying it, mate. I’m proud of you.” 

Arthur lets out a quiet sob. “Shut up,” he bites out, but he’s holding back a smile rather unsuccessfully. 

Merlin nods, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder, and blinks as he feels something cold on his face. 

“Oh my God, it’s snowing!” He laughs as another snowflake lands on Arthur’s hair.

“Oh, fucking brilliant,” Arthur moans, but Merlin whoops. 

“Isn’t it just! It’s actually snowing! In December! In England! We never get this lucky.”

Arthur shakes his head. “You’d better stop being so cheerful or it might even rub off on me.”

“Oh dear. We can’t be having that.”

They walk, together, in the snow, and Arthur seems lighter. It’s like a weight has been taken off him, and Merlin supposes it has. It was always easy for him. When he told his Mam and Will that he probably preferred boys, it was a passive comment in between mouthfuls of soup, and they both claimed to have known all along. But he knows he got lucky, and he can see Arthur is going to be happier already, just having somebody know about him, properly, without hating him for it. Merlin has to put a stop to his sentimentality, so he attacks Arthur with his scarf. Arthur just grabs it, wrapping it around both of their necks at once. 

They end up walking back to Arthur’s flat, Merlin trapped close to Arthur by his own scarf no matter how hard he tries to escape, and it is shiny and white. He evidently used the last of his savings on the place, and it’s small and doesn’t have much personality, but it’s cheerful anyway. Will would hate it. 

***********

Merlin is lounging on Arthur’s couch, doing his best not to crease any of the furniture. No matter what Arthur says about not having money now, he’s willing to bet the furniture Arthur’s savings could buy is worth far more than he can afford. Arthur doesn’t seem to have the same worries though, as he is leaning back, looking content. They’re watching A Muppets Christmas Carol, because Arthur wanted to watch something and Merlin insisted it should be something festive. It’s a comfortable sort of evening, with the fireplace on. As in switched on, because it’s a gas fire, which Merlin hates compared to the real one at his Mam’s, but likes a lot more than not having a fireplace at all at his own flat. He’s promised to stay a while, stick around as Arthur calms his nerves. 

He’s doing his best not to think selfishly. Trying not to think about the fact that he could have Arthur now, all of his pining could lead to something. He can’t let himself think of himself though, because this is a difficult time for Arthur. And anyway, if there’s one thing worse than being rejected because the guy is straight, it’s being rejected because you’re just not good enough. So Merlin keeps his mouth shut. 

“Do you think I’m a coward?” Arthur asks out of nowhere.

Merlin wants to deny it immediately, but he gets the feeling that Arthur is looking for something better thought out, so he thinks. “No. I think you’re really brave. You’re living your life for you, now, not him.”

Arthur grimaces. “Hiding from my own sister, though.”’

“I’d say it’s fairly understandable, to be honest. I mean Jesus, have you seen her?” 

Arthur shakes his head. He pauses the film and sits up straight. “I’m not sure. I swear I’m not the sort of person to run away from things that scare me. God, ask anyone. My whole life I’ve always gone right towards my fears, no questions asked. It’s like, after I left, something broke. Think I forgot how to be me.”

“Maybe you’re just a new you.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Arthur says, and he almost smiles. “Tell you what, though. I’m going to talk to them tomorrow. If they show up. “

“Yeah? Good on you, Arthur.”

************

The next morning, Arthur is supposed to be working outside, and Merlin is indoors. He hasn’t actually spotted Arthur yet, but he’s got a plan to make this easier for his friend, and he needs to hurry. He barges through the doors, waving absentmindedly to Freya, who’s on the tills. Shoving a robin jumper on as he goes, Merlin marches over to the tearoom, where he sees the usual group. He’s heard that they’ve started referring to themselves as the knights of the round table, in jest, given the circular tables they usually sit at, and Arthur and Merlin’s names. He does have to admit it’s a bit of a funny coincidence. He spots them, by the tree and fire, where they often are. It looks like they’ve already ordered from Gwen. He darts over checking quickly to make sure Arthur isn’t around. It looks like he hasn’t been there yet. Good.

“Merlin!” Gwaine greets him.

“Why don’t you ever do your bloody job anymore? You’re lucky nobody’s noticed, like.”

“Sure am,” Gwaine grins, but his eyes flick over to Percy and Merlin figures that he’s probably got a lot to do with why Gwaine keeps coming back. Lance, on the other hand, Merlin is less sure about. Still, at least he makes some sort of effort to at least look like he’s working.

“Right, you lot. I need to tell you something.”

Morgana immediately puts a finger over Gwaine’s lips. He raises an eyebrow and licks it. 

“That’s disgusting, Gwaine,” she snaps. “Go on, Merlin.”

“Arthur might come talk to you today,” he says, and lifts a hand to cut off the response. “But please can you all do me - well, no, him - a favour, and not make a big deal of it? Like, I know you’ve all known him ages longer than I have but I _can_ tell you that if you start, like, asking him loads about what happened with his Dad he’ll just be scared off.”

It’s Leon that answers first. “Christ, of course. We really miss him, mate. He doesn’t ever have to tell us shit, far as I’m concerned, if it means we can hang out again.”

“Well. Maybe eventually,” Morgana grumbles.

That’ll do. “Okay. Cool. Good. Also, don’t tell him I told you, yeah? Cheers.” And with that, Merlin dashes off to the aquarium, where he was supposed to clock in ten minutes ago.

**********

All day, Merlin makes excuses to wander back over near the table, but by one in the afternoon he’s starting to worry Arthur has gotten cold feet. By two, Merlin goes out the back doors to check Arthur is actually even at the Pine. He is - he’s in the garden section with a bobble hat on. And then, just after three, with less than an hour left of their shifts, Arthur comes hurdling into the room, almost falling into a fishtank. 

“Merlin. I can’t do it.”

Merlin glances up. “Yeah you can. I’ll come if you like.”

“Would you?”

“Sure,” Merlin says. “I’ve seen like two customers today, it’ll be fine. C’mon.”

He lets Arthur lead the way, hanging back slightly so Arthur doesn’t feel forced. He wants to be there for moral support, definitely, but he also really does feel like it’s something Arthur needs to do for himself.

Arthur stops at the table, and clears his throat. There are six pairs of eyes looking at him, but he doesn’t look away. “Sorry,” he bites out. Merlin isn’t sure why Arthur’s apologising, exactly, but he gets the impression that Arthur doesn’t really know, either. 

Morgana makes a noise that could be a sob, but could be a laugh, and she jumps up to put her arms around her brother. “I hate you, Arthur. So much.”

Arthur nods into her hair. “You too.”

Merlin shuffles over to where Gwaine and Lance are watching the scene unfold, belatedly realising they don’t know anything about this. 

Gwaine leans over to Merlin. “What the fuck?” He whispers. 

“That’s why they’re here. Siblings,” Merlin mutters, because he figures the two of them have been let into the circle, and so the others wouldn’t mind. 

Lance’s eyes widen, and Gwaine hums.

Arthur comes to sit at the table, then, and Merlin listens as he slowly starts to talk to his friends. Merlin realises that, despite how much he’s seen these people this month, he hasn’t really got to know them. He joins in as they chat mindlessly, and get Arthur up to date on their lives. He decides he quite likes them all, and they seem to be fond of him too. Leon has clearly known Arthur the longest. They talk about the football team they used to play on together before Arthur left town, and about little memories from when they were kids. They talk a lot in gestures and eye contact, too, which Merlin finds amusing. Percy is a man of few words, and most of what he says is measured and gentle. Sometimes, though, he laughs loudly and his eyes crinkle. He’s definitely less intimidating than he looks. Elyan, Gwen’s brother, is apparently good with computers, but also plays on their footie team, which is not a combination Merlin tends to see coming. Percy met Arthur and Leon at university, and Elyan met them through Percy. They all seem kind, and caring, and Merlin’s not sure he’s ever spoken to people who look this well put together, but turn out alright. And anyway, Lance likes them. He’s a good judge of character. They’ll all be friends before Merlin knows it, he reckons.

Arthur looks happy, too. It’s the best look on him, really. Merlin bites back a laugh at the idea that Arthur could ever think that his friends would turn away from him, just because he fancies men. They all seem so bloody loyal it’s almost ridiculous. Still, it can’t hurt to check.

Merlin sees his chance when Morgana starts to reminisce on an ex-boyfriend from uni.

“Mm. Arthur here hated him all along,” she was saying, with a smirk. “Cedric, his name was. Rotten cheat.”

“Was he fit, at least?” Merlin asks, grinning.

Morgana laughs. “God, I haven’t a clue what I saw in him, actually. Greasy brown hair, he had. It was vile. Well, unless that’s your type, I suppose,” she laughs.

“Nah. I do tend to go for blokes who wash their hair,” Merlin replies easily. Gwaine’s eyebrows start to move up and down comically, as he nudges Merlin in the hip. “Not you,” Merlin tells him.

The conversation flows on, afterwards, no scene made, and Merlin relaxes. He makes a point to look Arthur in the eye, with a small raise of his shoulders. _There you go_ , he thinks. _Your friends aren’t assholes like your Dad._

************

Everyone leaves, eventually, but Merlin doesn’t particularly want to leave Arthur’s side, and Arthur doesn’t seem in any rush to get home either. It’s freezing, snow still thick on the ground from the day before. They’re sitting together on a bench by Santa’s grotto, when the Santa actor comes out. 

“Hello, boys,” he greets them.

Merlin smiles politely. “Evening.”

The man turns away, as if to leave, but turns back suddenly. “Hey, have you two ever been to skate on the lake?”

Merlin frowns, and Arthur shakes his head. “No?” 

“Ah, well then. When I was young, we used to go up sometimes in winter. If you walk half an hour up the river, you’ll come to a lake that ices over when the weather gets like this. I may as well pass on the tradition, I’m not getting any younger,” he says, and strides away. 

Merlin snorts, but Arthur looks confused. “I swear I recognised him. Something about his eyes.” 

“I mean, you’ve probably seen him around.”

“No. It’s not from here. Something about him, though. I don’t know,” Arthur says. 

“What ‘dya think of what he said, though?” 

Arthur’s lips quirk up. “Well, I’ve got nothing else on today.” 

Merlin jumps up. “To the lake then, Sugarplum!”

“I hate you.”

************

They walk, together, to the lake they were promised. Merlin points out how ridiculous this is to be doing, and probably a bit dangerous.

“Yeah. But it does feel... right? I don’t know, that doesn’t make sense.”

“No. It does. It feels like this is what we should be doing, today.”

Merlin is pleased when they reach a lake. It’s not that big, but it is frozen over. As it comes into sight, he is hit by a strange feeling of importance. He wants to laugh at himself, getting emotional over a lake he’s never seen before, just because it’s quite pretty, but he can’t quite bring himself to dismiss how he’s feeling. He sneaks a look at Arthur, who is staring at the ice. 

“Christ, this sounds ridiculous, Merlin, but this place feels like home. Why is that?”

Merlin shivers, and he doesn’t think it’s much to do with the cold. “Really? You too?” He breathes. 

They stand staring, for what is probably only minutes but feels like much longer, before Arthur visibly pulls himself together.

“Right,” he laughs. “Let’s stop being weird. It’s just a lake.” 

Merlin nods. “Exactly. Come on, race you to the edge,” he calls, already running over to it.

Arthur wins, despite the head start.

“Reckon the ice would break if we stood on it?” Merlin asks.

“Probably. That’s what all the horror stories say, right?”

“Yeah. But I could never tell if people mean it for real, or they say it like how they say not to swing on your chair.”

Arthur hums. “I guess there’s one way to find out,” he says, and steps tentatively onto the ice.

Merlin feels himself pale, panic rising. “Arthur. I really don’t want you to drown in this lake.”

Arthur stands on the ice, smug. “Come on. Lets both do a couple steps and then I promise we’ll get off.” 

Merlin desperately ignores the innuendo. “Fine.” He tests the ice with his foot. It does feel fairly solid, so he puts his weight onto it. And immediately almost slips. He clutches onto Arthur’s arms, trying not to fall entirely. Sliding, slightly, Arthur takes hold of Merlin and pulls him upright. Merlin flushes. 

“Whoops.” 

“Idiot. It’s ice. It’s slippery.”

“Forgot,” Merlin says, sarcastically. But Arthur still hasn’t let go, and Merlin isn’t going to be the first one to break away. Arthur is staring, now, and then his eyes dart to Merlin’s lips. 

“Fuck,” Arthur says, quietly. “Can I-”

“Yeah,” Merlin whispers.

And then Arthur is pressing his lips to Merlin’s, chapped and cold, but somehow perfect. 

Merlin only breaks away when he needs to breathe. “Jesus.” 

“Uh. is that… good?”

“Bloody perfect, you wanker. Come to mine for Christmas dinner.” Huh. Merlin didn’t really mean to say that, but he wouldn’t say he’s not glad he did.

Arthur blinks, clearly taken aback. “Yeah, alright,” he says anyway. And then - “I think there’s a crack in the ice.” 

Merlin gasps and leaps away, sliding to the bank and darting up to the grass before he even notices Arthur’s cheeky grin. 

“Oh. That was a joke,” he nods. 

“Yup,” Arthur says, climbing off the ice after Merlin. “You’re freezing, though. You should probably come to mine for the night. It’s closer, and all.”

Merlin nods seriously. “That does make sense.”

As they leave, Merlin reaches for Arthur’s hand, and they leave the lake together, arms connected between them. As they wander through the snow, Merlin catches sight of a rusting footpath sign, the name of the lake printed there - _Avalon_. He takes out his mobile to snap a picture of it. He’d made good memories, here. It wasn’t a place he wanted to forget, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> oh - don’t walk on lakes that are icy btw. obviously. 
> 
> thank u for reading pals :) have a good one
> 
> p.s. go on leave a comment u know u wanna


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